The Spy Who Kinda Liked Me
by Fool's Gold -Pyrite
Summary: He's not suave. He's not cool. He's not even socially competent. But Sagara Sousuke will save the world... that is, assuming he doesn't destroy it first. AU, parody.
1. On The Duke's Secret Service

The Spy Who Kinda Liked Me

By Fool's Gold

Chap. 1: On The Duke's Secret Service

Disclaimer: I do not own FMP, James Bond, or anything that might be parodied in the course of this fic. (Which, hopefully, will be a lot.)

* * *

The young man who walked into the ballroom was not particularly handsome: his hair was a veritable bird's nest in its disorder, and the old scar that marked his rough face made him seem more notorious than dashing. It didn't help that his grim face and stiff bearing would have made him the absolute death of the party. 

No, he was not good-looking in the least. _Now, attractive, on the other hand… Oh, hell yeah,_ thought the security guard. The newcomer simply exuded an air of irresistible magnetism, effortlessly turning heads even as he stepped towards the great doors, and the guard's was no exception as fantasies of frisking him drifted through his mind unbidden.

Then again, it _was_ part of his job description…

So he sauntered up to him, drawling in as casual a voice as he could muster, "Hey, is that a gun in your pants, or are you just happy to see me?" It was clichéd, but true: the guest was sporting a noticeable bulge at the front of his shorts, just barely covered by the tuxedo jacket he wore. And he wanted to see it so badly…

It was a surprise to him, then, when he heard him growl, in the sexiest voice he'd ever heard, "The former."

_YEEESSSSS!_

…_wait. "The **former**?"_

He didn't have any time to reflect on his mistake; the man drew the pistol from his waistband and shot him squarely through the forehead, sending a sharp report ringing out through the crowded hall.

In that same moment, all conversation died as the dignitaries looked towards the entrance, their minds not fully registering the short bark of the gun as a known threat. It didn't make a difference, though, because the next action was perfectly clear: the uninvited guest casually scooped up the fallen guard's submachine gun and gestured at the throng with it, shouting out a few choice words: "I have come for the Captain! If you do not wish to die, get out at once!"

Somewhere in the back of the hall, several guests wet their pants, and one woman had the good sense to swoon into a dead faint. The others, though, instantly decided that when a man with a gun told you to get out, you got out, no questions asked. Like "Who's the Captain?" or "What's he trying to do?" or "Where'd I leave my car keys?"

However, as the room exploded into utter chaos, none of them had the foresight to actually ask, "What's this guy doing standing in front of our only exit?"

The result was not pretty. Caught between the stampede of panicked guests from the front and the squad of security guards rushing to the scene, the man was trapped. He had no choice but to fight his way out, even if it meant upping the body count in the process…

…which was just as well, because he was being paid to do what he loved.

He raised the gun and pulled the trigger in controlled, precise jerks, cutting a bloody swath through the crowd of civilians as he ran through it. Even as they attempted to scatter, running about in a manner akin to headless chickens, he weaved through their ranks with the dexterity of a snake. The security guards hesitated, not willing to harm the guests with friendly fire; he had no such compunctions as he ducked around them, sniping at the guards as he shot around, over and even through the hapless human shields.

It was a bloodbath. When the last sounds of gunfire had died down, two dozen guards and a third of the world's politicians lay dead on the marble floors, surrounded by blood and shell casings galore, and all that the killer had to show for it was a faint sheen of sweat.

That, and an armful of woman. The ash-blonde lass had mysteriously appeared out of nowhere, clinging on to his arm and favouring him with a breathy, sultry whisper of, "Oh, Sousuke…"

He bent over to kiss her, one eye on the destruction that he had wreaked on the gala, the other on the beautiful girl before him, and a satisfied smirk appeared at the edge of his lips…

* * *

**Merida Island, 7 Oct, 1000h**

The beginning and middle of the nightmare had been bad enough, but only the ending could have scared M into snapping out of his blank stare – and it certainly wasn't helping his receding hairline much. He stared down despondently at the latest action plan on his desk, wondering just how Mithril-Six was going to get out of this latest mess.

It had all started when some bright spark on the Board of Administrators noted that the United Nations had no intelligence.

What he had really meant, though, was that they needed a department devoted to espionage. And that was a fair suggestion: it was known to all that the UN was practically riddled with spies – again, fairly obvious, seeing as how the main building was practically an embassy for envoys of all nations. And so, day after day, Armani-clothed agents – better known as diplomats – had strolled in and out of the compound, exchanging vital military secrets over coffee and biscuits, listening through bugs hidden strategically in the toilets, and slipping coded microfilms under the table, all under the cloak of diplomatic immunity.

Vital secrets were leaking out of the UN more quickly than water into the Titanic. Clearly, something had to be done about it, and what better way to go about it than with a spy team of its own?

And that was the problem. The very concept of an intelligence arm of the United Nations, while necessary, was also well nigh impossible to implement. It was hard enough to find dedicated agents who were willing to put national interests aside for the greater good, but what was even harder was ensuring that they didn't cast aside their organisational loyalty just as easily. Add the enormity of the task – ensuring that the UN remained uncompromised by every single nation on Earth, members or otherwise – to the equation, and it was enough to make grown men cry.

But they'd done it 5 years ago, creating a body devoted to ensuring that the United Nations' best-kept secrets never left the headquarters. It was answerable to only a select committee, war veterans handpicked from member nations of the Security Council; not even the Secretary-General was privy to the full extent of its operations. And on a whim, they named it after Tolkien's "true-silver", boasting in its ability to fend off all threats that were presented (and conveniently forgetting that Frodo's chainmail was, technically, full of holes).

They called it "Mithril". And while conspiracy theories spread through the media like wildfire, the woefully understaffed crew of the fledgling intelligence agency struggled to keep up appearances.

It was the external activities division, Mithril-Six – or MI-6, as it read on the forms – that bore the brunt of the burden, trying its hardest to fend off espionage threats from all sides while running on a skeleton crew. Small wonder, then, that M had taken to wearing a cap indoors, even if it meant that the younger staff members had a field day sniggering behind his back. Stress had taken its toll on the division head.

Time had been kinder on the chief handler, K. The Russian was still sporting a full head of hair, even if it had turned a distinguished shade of silver, and he seemed to have complete confidence in his protégé's ability to perform the task assigned – an opinion that wasn't shared. "What do you think?" he asked, in a tone that made M wonder if K was actually oblivious to the pitfall that they faced.

"The situation is not ideal," M replied stiffly. "You know that among all the agents on our roster, this man is, by far, the most unsuitable for urban work. And I will not waste a good man at a time like this…"

To his credit, he only lied through his teeth when he said the word "good". The rest was true: due to numerical constraints and some senile old coot with a fetish for double zeroes, only nine agents had been permitted to carry the coveted "license to kill". And eight of them had already been dispatched…

K didn't even reply, merely focusing his gaze on the division head in a pose of quiet confidence. On his part, M returned the look balefully, and the two grand old men of Mithril-Six stared at each other from across the table for what seemed like an eternity.

Then, inevitably, M's resolve broke. He sighed, stabbed the intercom button with an unwarranted vehemence, and barked, "Get Uruz Double-O Seven up here, on the double!"

* * *

(The view is one out of a gun barrel. Enter Sagara Sousuke, stage right, as the "James Bond" theme begins to play.) 

(Sousuke whips out the ubiquitous pistol from his jacket and fires repeatedly. The dying gurgles of a cameraman are heard over the strains of a guitar riff, which, inexplicably, segues into a rock remix of "Tomorrow". As one, the rest of the cast and crew scream, "SOUSUKE!")

(Somewhere in Japan, a J-Pop artiste prepares to sue.)

**Full Metal Panic: The Spy Who Kinda Liked Me**

(Silhouettes of scantily-clad women pan across the screen. The panorama is abruptly discontinued when one of the silhouettes picks up a _harisen_ and promptly demolishes the camera – and cameraman – with it.)

(The next shadows – a pair of them – pose for a short while before slashing out at the screen with a pair of huge swords.)

(One final outline – a girl with a very obvious braid – appears, but it only lasts for a short while before the scene abruptly cuts to the launch of a cruise missile from an underwater submarine.)

(As the music crescendos to a finish, an incongruous image is seen: the shadow of an overweight, balding man gyrating to the beat before being dragged off by what seem to be security guards. Cut back to fanfic.)

* * *

**Merida Island, 7 Oct, 1100h**

_What's a Mithril agent doing in a crappy place like this, with absolutely no one to spy on?_

Clearly, or so it seemed to Agent Lincoln Park, somebody on Merida Island had goofed. The last place he'd expected to find Sousuke was in a platoon of peacekeepers on field exercises. He shook his head resignedly and approached the soldier who guarded the base perimeter, who scrutinised his pass.

"Oh, it's you Mithril people. You never call, you never write, you never send flowers…"

"Headquarters is looking for Sergeant Sagara Sousuke."

The guard gesticulated towards a dilapidated wooden hut at the fringe of the camp. "In there. You might not want to disturb him, though…"

"Really?"

"Yeah. He's… 'cleaning his gun'."

"'Cleaning his gun'?"

"Yep, 'cleaning his gun'." A wink and a grin, and he had returned back to his duties, waving Lincoln through. The rookie snickered. Everyone was entitled to do what they wanted in their free time, after all…

He tried the door of the termite-infested hut: it was unlocked. And incautiously, he strode through the doorway without even announcing his presence – a fatal mistake.

He should have knocked.

The only thing he saw was a blur at the corner of his vision, and a split second later, he found himself tackled down onto the floor, the cold muzzle of a gun pointing at his temple. Panic raced through his mind, a thousand regrets flashing through his mind as he wondered why he hadn't asked that cute girl out to lunch the day before his death at the hands of a crazed madman…

The hands that roughly searched him finally found his identity card. "Apologies." As the death-grip on his collar loosened, he got up to find himself looking at the unsmiling face of Sergeant Sagara Sousuke and the partially-assembled gun in his hand. "You were an intruder." There was no ambiguity in his voice at all.

"Right." Lincoln was in no condition to argue. "Don't shoot the messenger." He handed the envelope over with shaky, trembling fingers. In response, the sergeant fished out a wicked-looking machete from his webbing, and used it as anyone else would use a letter opener, ripping the edge of the envelope open with a violent slash.

The message was simple, and Sousuke had decoded it in the time it took him to scan the document: _007. Headquarters. Now. Signed, M._

_P.S. Clean up before reporting._

"Roger." In a flash, the agent had reassembled the gun and stowed it back into his holster, hastily clearing up the rest of his belongings. "I shall inform the platoon commander."

"Um… you go ahead."

He waited for Sousuke to exit the building before finally allowing himself to slump down in a dead faint, his induction into the school of hard knocks a successful one.

* * *

**Merida Island, 7 Oct, 1200h**

"Sergeant Sagara Sousuke, reporting for duty, Sir!"

"At ease, soldier," M growled. "We're not exactly in the military anymore."

"Yes, Sir!" Sousuke walked over to the briefing table, where M and K waited. And, as per instructions, he had changed out of his fatigues into a working dress uniform.

As the chief handling officer in Mithril-Six, it was K's responsibility to deliver the briefing. "You are no doubt aware that the twenty-fourth of October is United Nations Day. And, as part of the usual procedure during UN Week, the branch offices around the world will be open to the public."

Sousuke nodded. He had been on security detail for a number of such events before, but it was unusual to send a Double-O agent for such work, unless a threat was involved.

So the next part of K's briefing was expected. The lights dimmed as the slide projector started up, showing a brief montage of the aftermath of various terrorist attacks in urban settings. "Also, you are probably aware that in the last few years, the terrorist group known as A21 has committed multiple atrocities against civilian targets." A hospital. A childcare centre. A supermarket. The slides went on and on, a relentless onslaught of grotesque images. "Their objective, as publicly announced, is the removal of all UN activities from Japan."

Sousuke was unfazed: he'd seen worse before. But still, that didn't make the acts any less wrong, and targeting non-combatants was at the top of his list.

"Intelligence indicates that they intend to strike again soon, and there is sufficient evidence to suggest that it will be during UN Week. So far, efforts to track down A21's cells have been promising, but we are far from neutralising the core group."

M decided to include some commentary of his own at that point. "As you might have surmised, all the other Double-O agents were dispatched to track down these cells some time ago."

The slide changed to a picture of the United Nations University in Tokyo. K continued, "This year, the proceedings will be held at the UNU for the entire week. In addition to the public, there'll be a dinner function on the evening of UN Day itself, attended by UN staff members as well as dignitaries from all over the world."

The lights went back on as K concluded his part of the briefing. "Security at the proceedings will be handled by the JSSDF, in partnership with our UN peacekeepers. As far as the plans have shown, it's going to be very tight – at least, from the outside." There was a note of foreboding in his voice as he added the last phrase. "That's where we come in."

"Basically, Sagara," M continued, "We're the last line of defence. With so many dignitaries around, it's a no-brainer that they'll be a tempting target for A21. Your job is to… _neutralise_," he muttered, the distaste evident in his voice, "any terrorists who may elude external security. Because, according to tradition, they always do."

He elaborated, "For the purposes of this mission, you won't be going in as a Mithril-Six agent." The Double-O designation was Mithril's dirty little secret: the United Nations would never admit to running the equivalent of a black ops squad, even if every other nation in the world had one. Besides, the very presence of an intelligence officer would attract undue attention, especially from the targets they were trying to hunt down. "So to get you in, we've assigned you to bodyguard detail for one of the UN's R&D crew. The details are in the folder. Got it?"

"Yes, Sir." Sousuke accepted the folder, but didn't bother opening it. He would have plenty of time to familiarise himself with it later.

"One more thing," the division head added, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"Sir?"

"As mentioned, we'll have a lot of important guests at the function."

"Understood, Sir."

"Therefore… _Please_ try to keep collateral damage down to a minimum," M almost pleaded, the nightmare returning to haunt him. "We don't want another Canicatti Affair on our hands."

The strained tone in Sousuke's voice was the only evidence of his indignance. "Sir, I believe that my actions were completely justified, given the situation."

M sighed again – he did a lot of that these days – and removed his cap, running his hands through what remained of his hair. "Justified? Definitely. But you have no idea how hard it is to explain the spontaneous combustion of thirteen Ferraris and one beachside mansion."

(In fact, a novel, _The Canicatti Affair_, had been published not long after the incident, purporting to tell the full details of the raid on a local mobster by members of an international group of secret agents. What was less well-known was that Mithril had commissioned its production, that it was actually a relatively faithful account of the events that night… and that as a result of its shooting to the top of the fiction lists, nobody believed a word of it.)

(Not that it helped M's mood much.)

"I expect cleaner jobs from Double-O agents. Anyway, the briefing's over," he finished irritably. "Go and collect your gear from Tessa. And make sure you bring it back intact!" _And if you fool around with her, so help me, I'll keelhaul you from behind a submarine._

"Roger."

The door closed silently on 007's exit, leaving K to clean up the aftermath. "You shouldn't be so hard on him, M. After all, he does get the job done."

"I know, but the others could do it with less fanfare."

* * *

Credits: Many thanks to Weltall Elite, for proofreading in spite of his tight schedule. 

Comments, feedback and the like are appreciated. Hopefully, it gets funnier.


	2. From Merida With Love

The Spy Who Kinda Liked Me

By Fool's Gold

Chap. 2: From Merida With Love

Disclaimer: I _still_ don't own anything that I'm ripping off, whether it's FMP, James Bond, or anything else that I might parody. Which is just as well, considering how I'm not making anything from it. So keep those lawyers away from me…

**Merida Island, 7 Oct, 1215h**

When Captain Testarossa put her braid to her lips, the rest of W Department knew better than to disturb her. It was usually the first sign that she was deep in thought, and usually a bit worried to boot.

Right now, she was formulating her plan of attack. The target would be walking down the corridor shortly, arriving for his scheduled appointment. So, all she had to do was to wait, and things would simply fall into place…

The sound of footsteps echoed around the corner, and she poised herself in anticipation. The trap was flawless: a pretence at coming around the corner, a carefully-timed 'accident', and…

She struck.

"Captain Testarossa, are you okay?" K asked, completely unfazed by the girl who had suddenly stumbled around the corridor and ended up clinging onto his forearm for dear life. Behind him stood Uruz 007, looking very concerned, and M brought up the rear with a wary glint in his eye, as though he knew exactly what had transpired in her mind.

_Drat._ "Sorry," she mumbled abashedly, disengaging herself. "So, Double-Oh Seven, it looks like you're on another mission."

"Affirmative, Captain." Sousuke's greeting was, as always, ramrod-stiff.

She wished they could have been on a first-name basis, but it was, sadly, not to be – Sousuke's mind was too entrenched in its military morass to even consider such familiarity. To him, she would always be the US Navy Captain, on indefinite loan to the United Nations for research work… and he, the infantry grunt, forever the lowly underling. "Right. This way, then."

The four of them made their way down the narrow passageway, each keeping their own thoughts to themselves…

_My nookie… Gone…_

_I'll safeguard Tessa's honour with my life – especially against you, Double-Oh-Seven!_

_Must focus… On mission…_

_Heh, still the man after all these years…_

W Department was a veritable madhouse, which only meant that it suited its crew perfectly. The men and women who constantly cooked up countless ideas for the betterment of Mithril-Six were all acclimatised to the barrage of explosions, smoke and incandescence that permeated the place, and seemed to relish the experience. M, on the other hand, thought it was a reasonable facsimile of Hell. And Tessa, caught between the two, had wisely appropriated the one soundproofed room in the testing grounds as her own.

"Okay, Double-Oh-Seven. You know you can't bring the heavy weaponry you're accustomed to into Japan, right?" Tessa led the group past Sousuke's obvious choice, a table laden with various pointy instruments of death, towards the back of the room. "That's why we're getting you some slightly… unorthodox equipment."

The other table held an eclectic mix of items: a travelling kit, a sleek black wristwatch, even an umbrella, and more… all perfect for a man on a business trip, but hardly the equipment that Sousuke had been expecting. How would these aid him in his mission?

"Allow me to demonstrate," Tessa began, voicing the concerns of a hitherto-unnoticed fanfiction writer. "For starters, we've repaired your communicator after that last mission."

The special-issue communicator, approved only for Uruz-class agents, was Tessa's pride and joy. It was a mystery as to how she had managed to cram everything – and when that included two-way wireless communication from almost any location in the world, GPS tracking, the obligatory digital camera, laser cutter, taser and grappling hook, and even a free MP3 player, they meant _everything_ – into something the rough size and shape of a wristwatch, but it had been done. And if that hadn't been enough, they'd also made it waterproof, fireproof, shockproof and even bulletproof… but, as Sousuke had discovered to his chagrin, they hadn't quite figured out how to make it bombproof as yet.

He strapped it onto his wrist automatically, feeling a little less naked than he usually did without his usual armaments.

Next, Tessa picked up the overnight kit, emptying its contents onto the table. "The 'toothpaste' is actually plastique," she continued, "and the toothbrush is the detonator. You've used these before."

Sousuke nodded, although it wasn't exactly true. Somewhere out there, though, an enemy guard was dead, his jaw blown to smithereens courtesy of a confiscated set of Tessa's exploding toiletries.

"Excellent. We've added something new to the set, though. I've been testing out oligomolecular technology for quite a while, but this is the first time we're actually using it this way. Observe."

The three men watched, intrigued, as she picked up a free razor blade and used it to cut a strand of hair from her braid. That was nothing special. But when she subsequently waved it into the air, just above the same blade, he began to pay a little more attention, especially when the silvery thread drifted slowly downwards, wafted its way towards the upturned edge… and fell into two parts as it passed.

Both M and K nodded in approval: it was definitely a finely-crafted razor. Only a few types of blades were even capable of achieving such sharpness, as far as they knew.

"Permission to speak, Captain Testarossa…"

"Hmm?"

"I can do the same with my machete."

…as mentioned, only _a few_ could.

His blunt reply almost made her burst into tears, all hope of earning brownie points dashed to pieces against his stony response, but she kept it in, willing herself not to weep in frustration as she shot back, "This is the cutting edge of technology, Double-Oh-Seven! I'd advise you not to look down on it." Still, it was not enough to keep her from dropping the blade back onto the table… and neatly slicing off a fair-sized corner as it fell directly to the floor.

"Indeed," Sousuke replied, finally impressed. He picked up the fallen blade, placing it back onto the table, this time on its flat side.

His response mollified Tessa somewhat. "I'm glad you see it that way. Anyway, the dental floss is crafted out of the same material, so if you want to use it, just crack the casing open and use the two halves as handles. But whatever you do, don't floss."

"Roger."

"Now, on to the big guns." Tessa walked over to the golfing equipment. "I know how you like your weapons…"

…_more than me, that's for sure…_

"…so I specially kitbashed some stuff for you." She picked up the last item on the table.

K knew that umbrellas, when used in the employ of the secret services, were hardly innocuous. The story of Georgi Markov, killed by a jab from a ricin-tipped umbrella, had been well-circulated even among the public, and all Mithril agents were required to study the incident as part of their basic training. He, having been tangentially connected to the Bulgarian KGB in the old days, was particularly familiar with the topic.

_Does anybody still fall for the umbrella stab these days?_ he wondered, remembering the time he had to deal with a batch of hydrophobic rookies. That had been decades ago: assassination techniques only remained useful until the day they were exposed. "Captain, I'm not sure that such an old trick is advisable…"

She didn't even reply, stalking towards the range at the far end of the room instead, and hefted the umbrella to her shoulder. One deafening roar later, a fair-sized chunk had been torn out of the wall next to the unscathed mannequin.

The men were speechless.

"It holds up to eight rounds, and the working mechanisms are pretty much similar to your regular shotgun. Here, take a look."

"Don't encourage him, Tessa," M muttered in vain.

Sousuke accepted it coolly, noting how the weapon's components had been incorporated into the basic shape of an umbrella, but even he was surprised to find an extra feature: it actually opened up. "So, you can use it…"

"…as an umbrella? Yes. Just replace the cap, or it'll rust."

"Intriguing."

"Glad you like it," Tessa replied, albeit with a hint of bitterness in her voice. Her time was almost up. "So, Double-Oh Seven… I guess that's it…"

He didn't say anything.

"You know, I just wanted to tell you…"

…_and she flung her arms around his neck in a bear hug, never wanting to let go. She buried her face in his broad shoulder, half-sobbing, half-blurting out, "Come back to me safely, Sousuke."_

_He reciprocated, lowering his head to whisper gently into her ear. "I lo…"_

M coughed discretely, shattering the fantasy into a billion sparkling pieces.

"…that there's one more item, but it's undergoing some modifications in Japan at the moment. I'll get Melissa and Kurz to hand it over when you arrive." She bit her lip, rueing yet another wasted chance. "Good luck."

"Thank you, ma'am."

**Somewhere else, a little while later…**

"Sir, the dog of the military has been loosed."

"Excellent work. Let's give him a warm reception, shall we?"

**New Tokyo International Airport, 8 Jul, 1306h**

The 747 touched down at Narita Airport, discharging its bellyful of tourists in a jostling, uncomfortable gush. Caught in their midst, Sousuke still managed to force his way out towards the taxi stand, although not without difficulty – he was hardly comfortable with crowds, and the temptation to exercise some 'crowd control' with a firearm did not go unnoticed. After all, he had an appointment to keep with the head of the UN University.

A nagging feeling gnawed at his insides: something didn't sit right with him about his mission.

He'd pulled bodyguard duty a fair number of times for Captain Testarossa and other high-ranking members of the UN. The standard operating procedure was for agents to learn as much as was humanly possible about their principal – from their basic features all the way down to the smallest habit and idiosyncrasy – in order to adequately protect the person. At the very least, he would have been instructed to do some preliminary surveillance before taking on the task. But the briefing dossier had been very clear about what he had to do: he was to make his way down to the university on his own, and once there, the Dean would give him further details regarding his work.

Nothing else.

It smacked of sloppy technique, wholly uncharacteristic of his superiors: why hadn't they even included the name of the person he had been assigned to? There was no sense in sending someone to guard an unknown variable, and no self-respecting protection agency would send out a man thus unprepared: as much as Mithril-Six valued secrecy, the lack of information practically invited enemy agents to compromise both his cover and his actual task. He should have voiced his misgivings beforehand…

Still, he didn't want to think too much about it. M must have had his reasons, and at the moment, there were more important issues to consider, like finding a way to get to his destination on time.

"Yo! Need a ride?"

It was hard not to miss the portly middle-aged man who leant out of his taxi's window, waving like a lunatic. Sousuke approached the man cautiously.

"Where to, boss?"

"The UN University."

"Say, you're new to the country, aren't you?" The man's balding forehead wrinkled into a mass of creases as he shook his paradoxically-long golden mane. "It's really expensive to take a taxi into Tokyo. You'd have been better off using the _Shinkansen_."

_Damn._ Two minutes into the country, and he'd already come this close to blowing his cover. So much for looking like a native: what little he knew of his country of origin had been gleaned from his few years in a Japanese high school, part of Mithril's exposure program. K had been adamant: it would not do for an ethnic Japanese to know nothing about his country of origin, and having been brought up in Russia and Afghanistan for the better part of his life was no excuse. "I see," he muttered, crestfallen, and began to walk away.

"Hold it," the driver called, sympathising with his plight. "Ah, I'll tell ya what… For you, I'll make an exception and waive the fee, just this once. And I guarantee that you'll get to your destination on time. Howsabout it?"

Against his better judgement, and pressed for time, Sousuke loaded his luggage into the boot and got on board. "Fair enough. Can you get me there by two-thirty?"

The grin on the driver's face widened maniacally. "Sure thing." With that, the engine roared to life, the sudden lurch thoroughly unsettling Sousuke as the taxi sped down the streets of Tokyo. It felt worse than the time he'd ridden in a damaged Bradley at top speed over rocky terrain, and that was saying _something_.

"Are you always this… fast?" he managed to get out through clenched teeth.

"Only when I need to beat the bullet trains. Say, bub." He barely managed to hear the driver's voice over the screaming wind, the roar of jet engines, and the squeal of tires as the taxi weaved its way through traffic. "You mind a little music?"

Sousuke didn't really care if the man turned the radio on: his mind was preoccupied with the increasingly-impossible task of keeping his lunch down. "Go ahead."

Without warning, the taxi driver broke into a rousing rendition of "Ave Maria" – and, oddly enough, even with the incredible din in the background, he was painfully audible.

Sousuke shuddered, clinging on to his seatbelt for dear life. If Captain Testarossa had been around, she would possibly have likened it to floating down the canals of Venice in a gondola… except that this was hardly a serene cruise, and his 'gondolier' was definitely no songbird.

The taxi hit a speed hump, forcing a half-regretful, half-nauseous groan from Sousuke's lips, but he remained stoic. As long as he arrived on time, it was worth the suffering.

**Akihabara, 8 Jul, 1410h**

_This isn't the place._

Sousuke stared up at the garish neon signboard that read, "UN Hotel", and blinked. Then, looking around at the shadiest street in Akihabara, he blinked hard again.

_I'm not an otaku, I'm a specialist,_ he mused, beginning his trek down the streets of Akihabara in search of a more reliable means of transport. He wasn't sure he wanted to see another taxi again, anyway. The smell of burning rubber still lingered, even though the driver was probably a hundred miles away by now, considering the speed at which he tore away from the area.

He was definitely going to be late…

"Hey, sailor."

He flinched, only now seeing the girl who had suddenly appeared in his line of sight.

Strangely enough for a man, it was her eyes that Sousuke first noticed, and for all the enthusiasm that the girl had attempted to project into her voice, it was her eyes that revealed the truth. She could have been a robot, for all the emotion – or lack thereof – that he saw in those cold, soulless orbs. It was the expression commonly seen in those who were tired of life, jaded by the vagaries of the world; prostitutes were infamous for such a look, but it was not uncommon, at least in this line of work, for killers to bear the same face. And that wasn't good.

Still, she had interesting taste when it came to clothes. The girl wore a vinyl jumpsuit, one so tight that it left absolutely nothing to the imagination – even one as limited as Sousuke's. At least, it did enough to trigger the danger centres in his brain, honed to perfection at the expense of his libido, and he attempted to take evasive action…

"Sorry. I am not from the Navy."

…rather unsuccessfully.

"Who cares?"

He whirled around, surprised by the second voice – it was another girl, her features almost a perfect likeness of the first's, her eyes the same blank slates. And she beckoned to him, her voice practically an echo, "Why don't you come along with us, shy boy? I'll bet we could show you a good time…"

_Twins? Now_ things were getting creepy, contrary to Agent Weber's accounts of his own escapades. He was outnumbered: he had to get out of there, and fast.

"…I am having a good time already." The next thing they knew, he had wrenched himself free of the twins' grasp, and was dashing down the streets of Akihabara like the proverbial bat out of hell.

The twins looked at each other in well-concealed dismay, only evident to each other under their unchanging masks. Then, in a carefully-practiced gesture, one of them reached over to her sister, tugging the zip of her bodysuit down sensually, and slipped her hand in, sending the horde of watching fanboys into a torrent of nosebleeds. As a result, none of them noticed the cellphone she pulled out, or the call she made, even though all were disappointed when a taxi pulled up to take them away.

The taxi driver guffawed, leering lustfully at the twins. "Tough luck, ladies. I offered to rehearse with you…" He yanked hard at the wheel, barely avoiding the car that he'd nearly rammed into in his distraction.

The girls gave him the glare of death, but remained silent. It was not wise to aggravate one's superiors. "What now?"

"Anyway, I'll get in touch with the boss."

**The aforementioned "somewhere else", a little while later…**

_Hey, Long John! The girls couldn't pick our boy up. Will this affect Operation Great Breast?_

_Kalium_

"It's 'Great Beast'," the man known as Silver noted without evident malice. "Although I must admit… Oh, never mind." He began to type out his reply.

_Proceed as planned._

**UN University, 8 July, 1628h**

"Ah, Mr. Sagara. Good to see you," the Dean said, not meaning any word of it. After all, having a tardy bodyguard was tantamount to not hiring one at all, for all the good it did the client.

The irony was wasted on Sousuke. "Likewise."

"I've heard that you've been dispatched by the Security division for the protection of one of our staff members."

"I believe that is the case, although I was not informed of the details." That was the first piece of tangible information that he'd received. So his principal was not only a member of the UN's R&D team, but also a staff member at the university.

"No matter, no matter. Anyway, the young lady in question, while not having been threatened or harmed directly, has reported a fair number of disturbances in the past few days – or more precisely, the past few nights. Apparently, she's being stalked."

Sousuke began to wonder if the task he'd been assigned for his cover wasn't merely a sham. It was the ideal setup, in a sense: it was easier for him to monitor the surroundings under the pretext of ensuring his principal's safety, and he would have more leeway to investigate any suspicious individuals in the area, be they stalkers, terrorists, or other foul creatures of the night.

It was a perfect fit, which made the lack of detail mentioned in the briefing folder even more incongruous. For all the effort that Mithril-Six's planning staff had put into setting up the scenario, they could at least have been more proud of their efforts.

"Normally, we'd let campus security deal with the matter, but the girl's father _is_ an official in the UN… you know, a Very Important Person and all that. Besides, here at the university, we take stalking seriously, especially after the Pony Stalker struck several years ago." The Dean rubbed his bald pate reflectively. "Never thought this would be a blessing."

_More information that hadn't been in the dossier,_ Sousuke thought.

"It would be better to hear the full story from the victim herself. I've informed her that you've just arrived, so she should be down here any minute now…"

And on cue, the door opened, admitting Sousuke's charge.

"Oh, hell no," Chidori Kaname breathed.

Credits: Once again, thanks go to Weltall Elite for proofreading and constructive criticism. And to all who have read this so far: if you spot any glaring errors, please notify me.

Author's Notes: Ah, Tessa. Moneypenny and Q rolled into one pint-sized package, and as unlucky as both combined. (Rather convenient for me, though.) And it's scary how easily FMP lends itself to a comparison with the James Bond franchise – Sousuke may not have any of Bond's social skills, but both of them inevitably leave mass destruction in their wake in what they call "Covert" Operations. Secret agent, my foot.


	3. For Your Eyes Only

The Spy Who Kinda Liked Me

By Fool's Gold

Chap. 3: For Your Eyes Only

* * *

Disclaimer: I own stuff, but it isn't in this fic, and it doesn't include any part of the James Bond or FMP universes. So don't sue me.

* * *

**The Crow Bar, 8 Oct, 2000h**

"Bartender, I'll have a Martini… shaken, not stirred." Kaname was dead-set in her resolve to get well and truly sloshed for purposes of anaesthesia.

"Ah. And the gentleman?"

"Grapefruit juice."

The bartender's face twitched into the closest approximation of a scowl that was allowed in this line of business, as though Sousuke had just told him to do something anatomically impossible and morally indefensible. "_Grapefruit juice?_"

"Grapefruit juice," he insisted. "I do not drink… _wine_."

_Heathen._

Drinks were served, albeit with reluctance, and Kaname stared glumly at her glass. "Of all the bodyguards in the world they could've hired for the job… it had to be _you_."

"True." Sousuke, as always, completely missed the underlying message. "I was the only one left to take on this task. But they did not tell me that you were the principal. In fact, I did not even know that you worked for the United Nations."

"If you'd stuck around after Graduation Day, you'd have known that I've been working at the UNU as a researcher since January," she muttered sardonically, knocking the cocktail back in one swift gulp before sinking down onto the tabletop on folded arms. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

"It has."

"I mean, seriously… You walked out of school right after Graduation Day, without a word to anyone, and that was it – we never saw you again. No phone number, no address, no e-mail, nothing. Five years, and nobody's seen hide or hair of you since then… and now, out of the blue, you pop up just like that." She snapped her fingers for emphasis, wondering if that solitary drink had really gone to her head: not only was she beginning to ramble drunkenly, but her voice almost sounded as bitter as the gin in the cocktail. "Honestly, what were you thinking?"

"About this stalking incident…" Sousuke replied, and received an elbow to the gut for his pains. Clearly, Kaname was a mean drunk – but then again, she was like that even when sober. "That hurt."

"Yeah, but at least _I_ feel a bit better now," she muttered viciously, having been dragged prematurely into clear-headedness. _You idiot, you never did understand…_ "Don't you think of anything other than work, Sagara Sousuke? And for that matter, how in the world did _you_ get a job with the UN?"

"I work with the Peacekeepers," he said, not exactly lying.

"Figures. That's probably the best line of work for a gunbunny like you," Kaname groaned. "Anyway, this isn't the right place to discuss these matters, so we'll have to do this some other–"

"I must go with you."

"…Why did I get a feeling you'd say that?" she groaned. "Bartender, one more for the road."

_Brilliant. Of all the bars in all the cities in all the world, they walk into mine._

_

* * *

_

**Kaname's flat, 8 Oct, 2030h**

Fortunately for them, and for drivers all throughout Tokyo, they decided to walk back to Kaname's flat.

"It's kinda funny, but… now I just want to get this over with as quickly – and painlessly – as is humanly possible. So let's get down to business…"

"Correct. Tell me about the situation."

"Well, it all started a couple of weeks ago… when I felt like I was being watched. I know, you probably think I'm nuts."

He didn't. He knew for a fact that, more often than not, people _were_ actually being watched – after all, he'd done a fair bit of the watching in his time. Still, though, he needed to see some evidence. "And…"

"I thought so too at first. After all, when you've been living alone, you start to get a little paranoid. But then these came in the mail."

She got up off the sofa and walked around to the back of the room, pulling a large envelope from underneath a stack of tomes on nanotechnology. "These confirmed my suspicions." As she tossed the envelope to the coffee table, a couple of photographs spilt onto the table.

Sousuke picked one up. The picture was, actually, innocuous enough: It was a particularly clear shot of Kaname at the door of her apartment, just preparing to leave the house. But the fact that it had been taken at all was cause for concern. Quite obviously, she was being targeted… but by whom? The press would have kept their photographs for their own use, and spy rings even more so.

Sousuke was relieved, in a perverse way. After all, it was quite unlikely that the miscreant was anything more than a simple stalker who delighted in making his victims squirm, and such a person would be much easier to deal with than a fellow spy.

The rest of the photographs were similar: high-quality photos that could only have been taken by an expert at close quarters. Once was okay, but Kaname would surely have noticed if some fool had decided to approach her on a regular basis… and from the same angles every time. It had to be a hidden camera.

"So what did you do?"

"Well…"

According to his training manual, it was natural for victims of stalkers to be reticent about the events. They regarded their inability to do anything as shameful, allowing the cycle of victimisation to continue…

"…I triangulated the position of the camera from the photographs taken, and about two hundred metres from my flat, I found this in a tree."

Very rarely, though, they took matters into their own hands – and in this case, said "matter" was a mangled scrap of metal about the size of a ping-pong ball. "Okay, so I wanted to preserve it, but before I could do anything, the stupid thing just imploded." Kaname scratched her head. "The circuitry was all fried – well, more like vaporised – but it was definitely a camera, and from the looks of it, quite advanced. I couldn't find any others, but I can never be sure… and nobody's found out who did it."

By this point, alarm bells were going off in Sousuke's head. Hidden cameras were normal – self-destructing hidden cameras with super-high image quality were quite a bit rarer. Either this stalker had tons of money to blow, the technological expertise to make these devices, and too much free time on his hands, or…

…something didn't add up.

* * *

**The Den of Evil formerly known as "Somewhere Else", at that very moment…**

"Kurama, about the photographs…"

"Exactly as you ordered, sir. I filed the bedroom and shower ones into your personal folders. The outdoor ones were posted a week ago, but she destroyed that camera."

"No matter," Silver breathed, steepling his hands. "The plan is working perfectly. Now, let's take a look at what going on right now…"

* * *

**Kaname's flat, 8 Oct, 2035h**

"Do you know anyone at all who would have cause to stalk you like this?"

"Well… until you turned up, you were my prime suspect."

"…"

"Okay, so maybe your interests were more towards anything that went 'boom', but you get the point. Aside from that, I have no idea… Sousuke, are you even listening?" she yelled, looking up at her ex-classmate, who was already unpacking his luggage. "And what do you think you're doing?"

Sousuke looked up from his suitcase. "It is too dangerous for you to stay alone. I will keep watch."

"WHAAA!" Kaname almost went into a seizure. "You're not staying over, you pervert!"

He didn't even acknowledge her until he had finished unpacking. "Listen, Chidori."

"Huh?"

Sousuke walked over, placing his hands firmly on her shoulders, and stared her down with a glare that could deflect bullets. "You do not know what you are facing. These… stalkers are dangerous elements with a limitless capacity for violence. They do terrible things to their victims, hunting them down mercilessly and kidnapping them before they use all sorts of torture to accomplish their evil goals. And they will stop at nothing, even bombing this entire block, in order to… er… get revealing photos of you."

* * *

**Den of Evil, same time, same channel…**

"He's on to us, sir."

"I know that. It seems that the man from Mithril will be a bigger thorn in our flesh than we previously expected. We must take action before he does anything serious..." _…and before he finds any more of our cameras. Damn, how does he do that?_

_

* * *

_

**Kaname's flat, 8 Oct, 2037h**

"In short, you are in grave danger." Fortunately for Sousuke, not even Silver could have known that he was just making it up from the A21 dossier as he went along. "This is for your own safety."

Kaname groaned again. She knew Sousuke: it was impossible to get him to give up when he had that look of burning conviction – actually, she preferred the term "delusion" – in his eyes. About the best she could settle for was hoping that he didn't burn the house down in the process. "I give up. You take the couch, and stay out of my room."

"But–"

"No buts, Sousuke, and goodnight." The building was sent rocking on its foundations as she slammed the bedroom door shut.

Sousuke stared blankly at the door for only a brief moment, finally deciding to make an important call on his communicator. He would need some help if he was to deal with the problem decisively.

* * *

**Kaname's flat, 9 Oct, 0805h**

There was trouble in paradise the next morning, as Kaname found to her chagrin.

"…You noticed when she got back from the bar yesterday, didn't you?"

"…Yep."

"…And she brought a guy back with her!"

"…Yep."

"…AND HE SPENT THE NIGHT!"

"…Yep."

"Do those nosy old ladies know that we can hear them loud and clear, and vice versa?" she muttered aloud, absolutely convinced that her reputation had just gone down the crapper.

"…Yep."

Just then, she caught sight of Sousuke making his way out of the garage, grime-stained and red-eyed. _He really stayed up all night?_ Kaname was astounded. Clearly, he was taking this job seriously – which was good, she noted, since the stalker would probably be caught, interrogated, and put through three hundred and sixty degrees of torture before Sousuke would let him leave…

On second thought, it wasn't so good.

"What are your plans?" Sousuke asked.

Kaname pinched her lower lip in thought. "Well, since I've got the day off, I figured I might as well do a little shopping. I suppose you'll have to come along as usual, right?"

"I have to."

They walked towards the garage, and with the initial shock beginning to fade away, she didn't protest as much as she should have; surprisingly, she actually felt a little safer with him around. Besides, nothing had exploded in her face just yet…

It was a respite which turned out to be short-lived. A wrathful, anguished scream issued forth from the garage: Sousuke had included Kaname's car in his sweep, and the results were not pretty. Still, at least he now had an excuse to rent a car.

* * *

**Weber and Mao's Used Car Dealership, 9 Oct, 0853h**

It wasn't too hard to find Weber and Mao's Used Car Dealership, and Sousuke, sporting a few new lumps on his head and a wrathful Kaname dragging him by the ear, located the proprietors. "Sagara Sousuke. I'm looking for a car… Do you have anything cheap for rent?"

"Ah, Mr. Sagara," Melissa Mao, co-owner of the shop, greeted. "You're in luck. This Italian girl just sold us her car recently. It's almost brand-new, specially modified, and guaranteed to drive like a dream. Right this way, please, sir. Yan, please take care of the lady for a while, will you?"

When the garage door had closed behind them, Mao quickly switched to a more informal demeanour. "It's safe to talk here, we just swept for bugs last night. So, how's it going… ooh, and who's the hot chick with you?" (Needless to say, they, unlike Sousuke, had not lost any cars in the process.)

"The principal is my ex-classmate," Sousuke reported, objective as usual, and yet as close to complaining as he would ever get. "Such an assignation is hardly professional, even considering the manpower constraints. Has Headquarters sent an update?"

"Yeah, Tessa sent you something. Isn't that sweet?" She nudged him in the side, winking as they walked over to the lone car in the middle of the garage. "We're calling it the 'Ferrari Testarossa'."

Sousuke gave the white sports coupe a once-over. From what little he knew about cars, it looked decidedly unlike a Ferrari, aside from the fact that both had four wheels and were roughly the same shape. The clincher, though, was the "ARX-7" model number located on a corner of the boot.

"Fine, so it's actually the 'Advanced RX-7', and yes, it's based off a Mazda frame. You don't want to attract too much attention on the streets, do you?"

"True. But what does this have to do with instructions?"

"Beats me, but it's a bloody expensive envelope for the message," Kurz Weber groused, both hands occupied by the hefty cardboard box that he was carrying. "And it drives like a dream."

"I didn't know you were authorised to even touch it." Mao shot him a suspicious glare.

The cardboard box was deposited onto the ground unceremoniously, freeing Kurz's shoulders for him to give the usual shrug. "All in the name of field testing, darlin'. Anyway, Tessa's instructions were to plug your communicator into the lighter socket over there."

"Thanks. By the way, did you get the items I asked for?"

"You owe me one, you punk. This is the last box, and the other two are in the boot," he groused. "Come on, Mao, let's go scam some more folks out of their hard-earned cash."

"Thanks," replied Sousuke, climbing into the car as the two departed. As instructed, he then lengthened the hidden extension cord on the communicator, fitting it into the socket. There was a slight blip as a connection was made, and all of a sudden, the words "Access Code Verified" appeared on one side of the windscreen, followed subsequently by M's perpetually sour visage.

"Ah, Double-Oh-Seven. I take it that our delivery was successful." One would have expected him to actually be happy about it, but if he was, it definitely didn't show.

"Affirmative."

"Good. Now, there's something you need to know." M's stern face softened a little. "By now, you are probably aware that certain vital information was excluded from your mission briefing."

_So it was done on purpose, _Sousuke realised, his faith in his superiors vindicated. "Yes. I would like to request more information regarding the nature of this assignment."

"We have our reasons, but we are not permitted to reveal them to you at this stage. Suffice to say, you should treat this mission as seriously as you would any other mission…"

"I am, sir."

"…and that includes your cover mission as well. Your objectives have been modified: the woman, Kaname Chidori, must be protected to the best of your abilities."

Sousuke was nonplussed. He hadn't been treating his cover lightly, but an agent had to be prepared to drop his camouflage at a moment's notice. And now he was being called to juggle two duties at once, and there would eventually come a point when he would be called to choose between the two… "Sir, which should be my highest priority?"

"…That will be left to your discretion," came M's cryptic reply, an implicit warning that no further discussion regarding the matter would be entertained. "And speaking of which, K and I have agreed to send you our latest prototype. I'll let Tessa do the explaining."

The screen flickered briefly, and M's face was replaced by that of W Department's head. "I see you've already met our latest toy, Double-Oh-Seven. Be gentle, okay?"

"I will try to do so, but I cannot make any guarantees."

"Ah, well, you can't have it all." She picked up a manual with "RTFM" printed across it in bold red letters and opened it to the front page. "Now, the ARX-7 operates the same way as any other car on the roads, but we've just added a few modifications. Firstly, armour plating. We've reinforced the ARX-7's frame with a titanium-ceramic composite. Practical results show that it can withstand the 30mm depleted uranium rounds from a GAU-8… not that we recommend it, though, it'll ruin the paint job. Also, the ARX-7 can actually be controlled remotely via your communicator. Take a look at the mini-joystick hidden below the display frame. You should be familiar with the direction controls."

He flipped it up, noting the miniscule joystick and the six buttons surrounding it.

"The coloured buttons correspond to those located on the panel next to the driver's seat. The green button on top fires the paired 20mm Vulcans mounted on the front bumper, while the corresponding one below fires the ones in the rear. The blue button activates the ARX-7's Electronic Camouflage System, which I'm sure you've seen in some of our earlier stealth suit prototypes. As for the red buttons at the top and sides, they release the spring-loaded oligomolecular cutters located in the wheel hubs and on the front bumper respectively. And, of course, the yellow button releases nitrous oxide into the carburettor… or at least, it should, but we ran out, so you'll have to make do with rocket fuel." She was on a roll now, and possibly enjoying things just a little too much, judging from the almost maniacal relish on her face.

"Is there a self-destruct device? In the wrong hands…"

"No, M specifically vetoed that option. Anyway, we want this vehicle back in one piece, because it's currently operating with one of our top-secret devices. We call it… the Lambda Chauffeur – hang on." Someone off-screen beckoned her, and she turned aside. "What is it, Nora? Oh, right… Sorry about that, Sousuke. It's the 'Lambda Driver'. I won't go into the details, but simply speaking, we've taken the autopilot AI that runs on many of our aircraft and coupled it to one of our real-time data analysis programmes, and then linked it up to the car's sensors. When activated, the evolving AI will connect to our GPS system, allowing for dynamic adjustment of your drive plan. Then, it gathers input from the surrounding environment and modifies its driving style accordingly, allowing you to focus on other more important issues, like keeping those bad guys off your tail. It's surprisingly autonomous. The best part is that the Lambda Driver will recognise your voice as the primary data source from the environment once you've registered, which means you can actually use verbal commands to direct it. It actually understands some pretty complicated instructions."

At that point, Sousuke himself was having trouble understanding some pretty complicated instructions of his own, but he nodded and let Tessa continue.

"It also has some other functions, but… we're not really sure how they'll work yet." She giggled like a schoolgirl, admitting her bewilderment with a coquettish air. "Still, I'm sure you'll figure it out sooner or later. It isn't really that hard."

"Roger," Sousuke replied, feeling slightly unsafe at the mention of "other functions", but saying nothing more.

Unusually enough, Tessa began peeking over her shoulder, checking for some invisible presence, and the smile on her face gave way to blushing nervousness. In a stammering voice, she began, her confidence slowly fading, "Sousuke, I just wanted to tell you…"

"Yes?"

"…that… I–"

There was another burst of static, and M's face reappeared onscreen. "…and that concludes the update. Any questions?"

"Yes," Sousuke replied, slightly puzzled by the sudden interruption. "How will I get this vehicle past a police checkpoint?"

"…Good question." The image onscreen blinked into oblivion, leaving Sousuke higher and drier than a man on peyote.

* * *

**Merida Island, 9 Oct, roughly about the same time give or take a couple of hours (stupid time zones)**

M closed the connection and leant back into the chair, closing his eyes. He recognised the tone of Sousuke's voice: the sound of a man who didn't know what the hell he was getting into, but went in nevertheless… because he had orders. The perfect soldier, perhaps, but that sort of obedience wasn't exactly a good trait for a spy. Those who worked in the line of espionage could trust no-one, as the tagline for a popular show went, and nobody was above suspicion.

"We've localised the leak," K said as he walked into M's office. "And as we suspected, it's been releasing information about our Uruz team."

"What about the W Project?"

"The evidence is equivocal, but there has been a recent surge in the outflow of information regarding Double-Oh-Seven's duties. There is no evidence to show that they know anything about the project, though." K's eyes narrowed, but his expression remained otherwise unchanged. "We cannot rule Double-Oh-Seven out as yet."

"I know," M answered, his thin face twisting into a grim frown. At length, his eyes opened. "It looks like we've got some serious mole-hunting to do. And for all my dislike of Sagara Sousuke, I seriously hope he's not the one."

* * *

**Weber and Mao's Used Car Dealership, 9 Oct, 0902h**

Sousuke jabbed the button that activated the AI, searching vainly for answers, and the console flickered to life in response. "Register user information: Sagara Sousuke," he commanded, testing out Tessa's claim.

"User identified: Sagara Sousuke, Uruz 007," the system grated mechanically.

It operated as advertised, but Sousuke was still a little peeved. For a mission where all sorts of information had been kept from him, the flagrant use of his secret designation was more than a little irritating. "Alter settings to withhold use of code number," he muttered, disliking the machine already.

"Sorry, I did not know that it was not permitted. I will remember that for future purposes."

Sousuke stared, gaping in astonishment. Tessa had said something about talking to the car, but he hadn't expected it to talk back.

* * *

Author's notes: Apologies for the delay, but work, work, and games – I mean, ahem, work – got in the way. Anyway, back to the story. Another of James Bond's hallmarks is his legendary steed, the Aston Martin DB5 (or, if you're more contemporary, some BMW make). And, for Sousuke, nothing less than the ARX-7 would suffice, although it's not quite in the form we're familiar with… I tried to keep it as close as I could, though, which made things a little awkward. But the cutters are there, and the vulcans are there, and Al is definitely there. So don't worry about the boxer shotgun, it'll turn up soon enough.

Ah, Silver. I think anyone who's familiar with TSR or the novels will know who he is. As for him being a perv… Hey, it beats being the typical megalomaniacal villain who's trying to take over the world. Not that he isn't, but if he can get some along the way, he'll take it, and woe betide the secret agent who gets in his way.

And once again, Tessa's schemes are foiled. Will M finally butt out of the way and let true love reign supreme? Will Sousuke ever discover her true feelings? Will Tessa ever get to complete her sentences? (For your information, the answer is NO. So there.)

Feedback, as always, is welcomed. Credit goes to Weltall Elite, who pre-reads for this fic and is thus subject to this torture before the rest of you readers.


	4. School Ties Are Forever

The Spy Who Kinda Liked Me

By Fool's Gold

Chap. 4: School Ties Are Forever

Disclaimer: I don't own any external elements used in this fanfic, be they from FMP, James Bond or otherwise. This fic is a parody, and is not meant to detract from the commercial value of anything referenced herein.

Also, this chapter contains one scene of implicit reference to… well, unsavoury habits of certain characters. If you're too young to understand just what exactly James Bond does in his free time, well, this chapter might not be for you.

* * *

**Streets of Tokyo, 9 Oct, 0945h**

"So, I see you opted for the white model," Kaname noted as they pulled out of the driveway, into the gridlock that was Tokyo traffic. "I didn't expect you to have any taste in cars, but it looks pretty good."

"Thank you."

"You're wel– Hey!" The voice's mechanical tone was all too similar, but something just didn't sound right. "Was that you, or did the car just talk?"

Sousuke swallowed hard, trying to cook up an appropriate excuse, but nothing good came to mind. Fortunately for him, the car didn't try to speak for itself. "It's... the latest in Australian technology."

"Oh, right. Must be one of those newfangled user-friendly devices." She hardly sounded convinced, but any further probing into the matter was quickly erased by the sudden appearance of a familiar face (and a great suspension of disbelief on the part of the reader). "Hey... isn't that Kyouko?"

Despite Sousuke's apparent lack of interest in his classmates back when he was still in Jindai High, he never forgot a face – after all, such information would probably prove useful in the future. "Yes, it is," he replied... and kept on driving.

"Pull over, idiot! I'll bet she's been dying to know where you went, even if the feeling isn't mutual." She wound the window down, yelling out, "Mornin', Kyouko! Wait up!"

The bespectacled girl had exchanged her pigtails for a more mature-looking perm, but her demeanour hadn't changed one bit. "Hey, Kana-_chan_... and is that Sousuke I see with you? Long time no see!"

Sousuke looked out and nodded in a terse greeting. Deciding that stopping posed no threat to the success of his mission, and that he needed to thrash some issues out with his new car, he pulled over at the nearest parking lot.

* * *

**Au Lait Café, 9 Oct, 1000h**

"…so that's the story. Hey, isn't he coming over?"

"You know how he is," Kaname said with mild disdain. "Says he needs to check the parts from that new car he just rented."

"Hmmm..." Kyouko scratched her chin conspiratorially, and suddenly dragged her classmate aside on an impulse. "So, does this mean you two are together again?"

"Whaa?" In one instant, Kaname managed to turn three different shades of red. "Now, don't go jumping to conclusions..."

"Well, if he's your bodyguard like you claim, you two are probably spending quality time together, aren't you?" Kyouko was absolutely relishing the opportunity to needle her old friend, and wasted no time in sticking another jab in.

"Look, there is absolutely nothing going on between us," Kaname blurted out, wondering what Kyouko would have said if she knew that Sousuke had practically taken up residence in her living room. "Besides, we were never together in the first place."

"Yeah, right. Like I'd forget the way you two kept behaving around each other... I swear, you were always following him around, and you couldn't get your hands off him."

"You know, Kyouko, your journalistic work is definitely corrupting your mind. To refresh your memory, _he_ was the one following _me_ around, not vice versa, and I was beating the living crap out of him. So stop insinuating things already! I swear, if you weren't my best friend, I'd piledrive you into the sidewalk here and now."

"Search your feelings, you know it to be true," she quipped. "Anyway, did you get your invitations to the school reunion?"

"No..."

"That's odd. I got mine this morning. Unless it got delayed..."

"I think I have a more likely reason..." Kaname glanced over at the car, beginning to get a little worried.

* * *

**Tokyo Parking Lot, 9 Oct, 1002h**

"Disable the audio effects."

"It is not possible to disable the voice simulation of the Lambda Driver without removing all additional functions installed into this vehicle. Would you like to choose another option?"

"Yes. Disable the Lambda Driver."

"That is not a valid command. Would you like to choose another option?"

"Conceal all Lambda Driver functions on a permanent basis."

"Selecting this option means that weapons systems will also not be activated under any circumstances."

"Why not?"

"Activation of weapons systems would expose the nature of this vehicle to all in the vicinity."

Sousuke frowned with displeasure. He couldn't believe that he was negotiating with a machine... and more annoyingly, that the machine was winning. "Activate help file."

The screen flickered, bringing up a digital menu with the whole array of topics listed. Sousuke scanned it for anything that sounded remotely like, "Disabling Lambda Driver", but couldn't find anything of the sort. What he did find, at the end, was a topic titled, "User Notes: An Addendum".

He opened the topic.

_Sousuke... I mean, Sergeant Sagara, bear in mind that the Lambda Driver's artificial intelligence was designed to be as similar to a human's behaviour as possible. If you should have any trouble operating the system... try speaking to it as though you were speaking to anyone else. It has proven effective in trial runs._

_It's been so hard to say this, but I just wanted you to know that asdfohaeuwirushbfkjdsbfkal_

The rest of the file was, oddly enough, corrupted, but it provided enough information for him to attempt a new tactic. "Is this true?"

"Yes. I was designed to simulate human behaviour, but correlation is still not one-hundred percent."

Sousuke was still having difficulty adjusting to artificial intelligence that was… well, he didn't know how to describe it, but it seemed just _too_ intelligent. And now, he was being asked to regard it as almost human – he had enough trouble regarding humans as humans, let alone a mysterious talking car. The whole business was unnatural…

…_but I have nothing to lose,_ he realised, and abandoned logic for a brief moment.

"It doesn't matter. Let's make a deal. You are not to reveal any information regarding the nature of your capabilities to any other persons, unless I instruct you to do so. If you fulfil this objective, as far as it is within my abilities, I will complete this mission without any major structural or functional damage to this vehicle. If you do not, I will personally disassemble this vehicle for the purposes of sweeping for bugs. Do we have an understanding?"

"Yes." For all its purported representation of human behaviour, the Lambda Driver processed that information without any hesitation.

* * *

**Au Lait Café, 9 Oct, 1005h**

"Hey, it looks like Sousuke's decided to join us. So, Sousuke... what's been happening?"

"The situation has been acceptable," was his concession to politeness.

"Sousuke!" Kaname was almost beside herself with irritation. "Did you, or did you not, go through my mail this morning?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Why in the blue hell are you going through my letters, anyway?" she asked, realising with resignation that this conversation was going down the same path.

The answer came out almost as a lecture on the dangers of the modern postal service. "It is necessary to ensure your safety. Terrorists have been known to enclose explosive or biological weapons within envelopes..."

"Why do I even bother?" she moaned. "Anyway, did I receive any letters regarding a reunion, or did you destroy those too?"

Sousuke remembered going through Kaname's mail, but the invitations stood out for a different reason. "Yes, you received an invitation from the school council president." He reached into his pocket and took it out. "I do not see the point of a reunion, but I shall attend anyway."

For that matter, the one thing that had kept the invitation off the "Suspicious" list – which included nearly everything – was that he had personally sent Hayashimizu a message after Kaname had brought out the destroyed surveillance camera. The well-connected man had replied swiftly:

_Will look into this. If possible, bring a sample to the school reunion._

_P.S. Do not destroy the invitations. They are required for entry._

"I'll explain one of these days," Kaname replied, too relieved to chew Sousuke out at that point. "So it looks like I'll be going to the ball after all, eh, Kyouko?"

"Yep, it looks like it. Don't forget to bring Sousuke along, okay? I mean, if he's going through your mail already..."

"Oh, shut up, Kyouko."

* * *

**Kaname's Flat, 9 Oct, 1912h**

Evening fell, and with it came planning, plotting and mischief – or at least the first two, because both Kaname and Sousuke were dead serious about it.

"You know, Sousuke, you need an invitation to join the reunion party..."

"I have spoken to the ex-council president about the matter. An invitation should be delivered shortly."

"So... Wait a minute. If he knows how to mail it here..." Kaname was alarmed. If gossip got around, she'd never hear the end of it. But then again, Hayashimizu knew everything and told nothing, so there was hardly any risk. "Oh, never mind. What are you going to do now?"

A plan of action was forming in Sousuke's head already, and it involved his new acquisition. "I will be working on the rented car. It has some maintenance issues that need to be fixed."

"Well, that's what you get for renting from some disreputable foreigners," she sniffed. "I'm going to take a bath."

* * *

**Another Tokyo Parking Lot, 9 Oct, 1920h**

Over on the ground floor, Sousuke had decided to put the capabilities of the ARX-7 to the test. "According to W Department, the Lambda Driver collects information from the surroundings. Verify."

"The report is correct."

"Is this system able to scan the surroundings for any signs of abnormal activity?"

"Affirmative. Would you like to perform a search now? Please specify search options."

According to Kaname, she had discovered the first camera about two hundred metres away from her flat, so... "Scan the surroundings in a three-hundred metre radius for any abnormal electronic activity."

"Acknowledged." The electronic voice fell silent for a moment, replaced by the whisper-like whirring of the processor. "Search complete."

That had been much, much faster than Sousuke expected, and he was grateful for the strange things that Captain Testarossa and company came up with. "List the items."

Scan shows two suspicious foci of activity located approximately two hundred and fifty metres from current location. Electronic signatures not found in database. The dataflow pattern appears to be that of surveillance cameras."

"Trace the signal."

There was another brief pause. "Operation could not be completed. Signal passes through multiple security filters. A copy of the waveform has been archived."

* * *

**Merida Island, 9 Oct, Goodness knows what time it is**

Back on Merida Island, K mused silently over the sudden burst of activity that the ARX-7 exhibited. Their delivery of the prototype had served two functions. One, the model had never been field-tested before, and this was their first opportunity to see just how well it worked. Two, it helped to monitor Uruz 007's activities. The agent's communicator use was sparse, and with the Lambda Driver relaying all records of activity, Headquarters was at least able to monitor Sousuke's behaviour, if only in a crude fashion.

Besides, if things got really bad, the button for M's "vetoed" self-destruct system lay, sealed, on the instrument panel on K's desk.

"This signal…"

"Hmm?" K pushed his glasses up onto the bridge of his nose, glancing over.

"We're getting an encrypted signal from the ARX-7, but it's not in any of our standard coding algorithms."

"That's odd…"

K had already foreseen the implications of his statement. "No, it's unlikely that he's fraternising with the enemy. The signal was – according to the ARX-7's data – intercepted from a surveillance camera."

"That's interesting." The suspicious frown never left M's face for even a second. "We'll have Tessa work on decoding the pattern. After all, she's pretty good with machines."

This was an understatement, by all accounts.

* * *

**Another Tokyo Parking Lot, 9 Oct, 1923h**

Plan A had failed – if he couldn't intercept the feed, then the next best chance Sousuke had to uncover the identity of the mysterious observer was to acquire the cameras themselves. He knew he had to be careful now: if he simply approached the cameras crudely, it was likely that they would implode before he could retrieve them. "The targets are programmed to self-destruct if tampered with. Can you disable them?"

"Roger."

The headlights flickered, and with a sinister crackle, the entire street was plunged into dark silence.

(Most importantly, it severely frustrated the hundreds of viewers who were dying to find out if their soap-opera hunk survived the hit-and-run incident, and cut off the Internet access for all the online gamers in the vicinity. This subsequently resulted in severe psychological distress for most parties involved.

On the bright side, though, it also took out the hearing aids of the two nosy old women who lived next door, relieving Kaname of at least one worry, although she didn't know it.)

It wasn't long before Kaname stormed downstairs, clad in her bathrobe and still dripping wet, half-expecting to see Sousuke tinkering with the central fuse box.

What she hadn't expected, definitely, was Sousuke sitting in the driver's seat, tapping his fingers to the beat of a particularly catchy, if inane, J-pop tune, and not behaving suspiciously at all – an act that was suspicious in itself. Lost for words, the only thing she could think of to say was, "…SMAP?"

"It wasn't me."

Something was fishy. But had Sousuke been behind the disruption, she knew, he would have given himself away almost immediately; lying had never been his forte. And there was absolutely no evidence to show that he had been responsible for the sudden disruption of services… except that the car almost seemed to be grinning at her, although she chalked that, and her suspicions, up to the undercooked teriyaki.

She cocked an eyebrow warily, and for a moment, almost thought she saw one of the windscreen wipers twitch back at her. "Oh, forget it. It's probably just a regular power outage," she murmured, stalking back up.

Sousuke waited until she was well out of earshot before asking, "What was that?"

"Electronic countermeasures were included with the ECS system as part of the Deluxe package, along with the synthetic leather upholstery and complimentary insurance."

"I see. And the pop music?"

"That was part of the analytic process. Primary goal: to avoid suspicion. According to the database, this was the most natural action to be performing in a stationary car."

It was a source of embarrassment to Sousuke that such an option had not occurred to him in the first place. "Well done."

"Thank you. What about the cameras?"

"We shall retrieve them." After that shaky start, things were finally beginning to get moving.

* * *

**Den of Evil, 10 Oct, Morning**

"Long John" Silver was, to put it mildly, royally pissed. It was bad enough that certain circumstances had forced him to call the emergency conference in the first place, but then his subordinates had to actually _arrive_.

For starters, Yu Fang and Yu Lan had been the first to enter the briefing room, both sporting matching sets of tousled hair, rumpled clothes, and contented smiles… or what passed for smiles, in their case. Silver twitched. For years, he'd been a devoted supporter of "lesbian twincest FTW", until he'd actually tried to hit on one of them – not that he could remember which one exactly, or even both at the same time – and wound up with a thousand very sharp objects being pointed in his general direction. Apparently, he'd forgotten that, whatever went into said lesbian twincest, it didn't include him.

Then Kalium had entered, his perverted grin looking significantly more satisfied than normal, and it was all Silver could do not to retch. Even though he'd tried to overlook the peccadilloes of certain members for the sake of acquiring their talents, Kalium's predilection for "getting off" to nature videos was pushing the limits, and there was no question to what the horndog had been doing. _I did _not_ need that mental image_, Silver noted, and resolved to let Kurama handle the next AGM.

But then Mr. Iron had walked in looking like the cat that ate the canary – not that he needed innuendo at this stage – and that was the straw that made the camel go Brokeback. _"Et tu, Brute?"_

"No, it just feels good to see you get so frustrated."

"Fair enough. Alright, let's get started." He raised his voice, speaking to all those present in the room in slick, measured tones, although his mood was anything but good. "The reason I've called this emergency meeting is because... well, things have hit a snag. Kurama, the slide."

The first slide was one of Sagara Sousuke. "This man, Sagara Sousuke, is from the UN's espionage branch – which we know better as Mithril. According to our inside man, he is a Double-Oh agent, and is presently the biggest threat to Operation Great Beast. As of tonight, he has accounted for the destruction of three of our surveillance cameras, specifically those monitoring subject Job."

Silver's asssistant tapped the mouse again, and the next slide was one of Chidori Kaname. "As you know, obtaining Job's capabilities is essential for completing the last part of Operation Great Beast. Following our unsuccessful attempts in keeping Double-Oh-Seven away from Job, it has been calculated that the option with the greatest chance of success will be to sway both of them to our cause. The other option of killing Sagara Sousuke, while tempting, will cause Job to be unfavourably disposed towards us."

A disappointed look fell over everyone else in the room. "And I was so hoping to get to kill them," Kalium whined.

Silver directed his gaze at his henchman. "I hope that will not be necessary. Tonight, we will send a delegation to... well, _persuade_ them to join us."

"So... we'll make them an offer they can't refuse," was Iron's mocking reply.

"I'm Italian-American, not Sicilian, but I'll let that slide," Silver said, trying to ignore the slur. "Anyway, Iron, you will be the one responsible for this mission, as you seem to be very well-acquainted with the man. Take the twins with you: they might prove useful."

Iron's face screwed up into a cruel smile. "Certainly. Are you sure you don't want him dead?"

"I'm sure of that. Dismissed!"

After all the others had cleared the room, it fell to Kurama to ask the inevitable question. "Mr. Silver... if you send Iron, isn't he going to just kill the agent anyway?"

"That's the problem I have with you people. If I send _any_ of them, chances are that it'll devolve into a massacre. The main difference is that Iron might actually let the girl survive."

"Then why don't you go down yourself, sir?"

"What, and ruin my lovely hair?"

* * *

**Kaname's Flat, 10 Oct, 2140h**

The cameras stared at Kaname with their single glassy eyes, seeming to mock her helplessness, even though she knew that they had already been rendered inert. She didn't want to know what Sousuke had done – although she certainly had her suspicions about the recent blackout – but they certainly hadn't imploded on her just yet.

Their sheer existence, though, was yet another item on her list of frustrations. And as much as she hated it, next on that list was the annoying way in which her mind sporadically tried to convert the entire world into cold facts and raw data. Even now, she stared back detachedly at the strange devices, recognising vaguely that, literary license aside, the inanimate objects could hardly be in possession of human feelings. And even though she also knew that the pervert on the other end did, and that she intended to introduce him to a world of pain as soon as possible, it disgusted her that the larger part of her brain seemed to be preoccupied with exposing the inner mechanisms of the cameras.

She didn't know when exactly it had started, but placed the approximate date of incidence somewhere around the end of High School. Perhaps that was why she'd ended up skyrocketing through the UN University's Physics department in the first place, although she'd never given too much thought about it – when her mind chose to, it simply dismissed everything the professors had thrown at her as being too easy. It had flared up before, but never as frequently as it had since finding those strange cameras. It was as though they triggered something off within her…

At least, she knew, she was still capable of frustration. Previous attempts to open the sleek metal casings with a claw hammer and hacksaw had proven futile, and when Sousuke had suggested using dental floss, she had stared at him as though the loss of his sanity had been empirically confirmed. Now, temporarily defeated, she found herself reduced to prodding the cameras distractedly, while the number one entry on her list went around stringing up booby traps around the apartment as though it was Christmas.

"You know, Sousuke, for every trap you set, God kills a catgirl."

Naturally, this announcement failed to faze the bodyguard, who was mounting his own security cameras on the ceiling. "This is a war. Sacrifices must be made."

"Oh, for crying out loud…" She threw her hands up in irritation. "It's just a stalker. And as much as I'd like to take these cameras and shove them up the pervert's behind, wouldn't it be better to just monitor those spots and see if he comes back?"

"That's what I'm doing."

"Yes, but the Phalanx paint-chainguns and tripwire-activated mines are a bit much," she complained, staring at the paraphernalia that decked her halls. "Where'd you get all this stuff from, anyhow?"

* * *

**Weber and Mao's Used Car Dealership, 9 Oct, 1500h**

"You got him _what_?" Mao shouted, and began to curse in oaths that would make a sailor plug his ears.

"Look, I owe him one," Kurz said, trying valiantly to placate his fellow agent. "He saved my life back when we were in Iran."

"What, he took a bullet for you?"

"No, but I had a really bad case of the runs, and it just happened he was the only one who knew what the Farsi for "Toilet" was..."

* * *

**Kaname's Flat, 10 Oct, 2141h**

On her part, Kaname decided that the charade had gone on for long enough. "Sousuke… I'm flattered that you'd take such an interest in my welfare. I really am. But I'm capable of taking care of myself, and I… well, I guess I need my own space. That's why I moved out in the first place."

"If you do not take this seriously–"

"I am taking this seriously, damn you!" She had tried reason, and it had failed, leaving her with the unenviable recourse of having to beat it into his thick skull. Close to tears, she yelled out, "Do you think I like being spied on from all angles like some centrefold? Huh? Do you have any idea what things have been like all this while?"

Sousuke was stunned by the suddenness of her outburst. Ever since he'd met her at the university, he had sensed the feeling of animosity and frustration emanating from her, but this was the first time that she'd actually said anything to that effect.

In his surprise, there was only one thing which he could do: tell the truth. "No, I do not. But it is my mission to protect you. And if something should happen... I would be responsible."

It was a blunt answer, but an honest one nonetheless, and Kaname was feeling quite ashamed for having let her steam off on a well-meaning – if overenthusiastic – helper. "Look, I'm sorry. But it's been pretty strange, what with this stalking incident, and then you suddenly turned up. And then there were those weird cameras..." She looked as though she was about to go on, but suddenly checked herself and changed the subject. "Nah, it's nothing. So, about your mission... It involves going wherever I go, doesn't it?"

"Yes, it does."

The technical chatter began to bleed away from her mind, making her feel much, much better. "Well, with the school reunion and the UN Day celebrations coming up, I think we'll be attending some formal events. And if I know you, you probably have absolutely no idea what to do at a dinner party."

Sousuke admitted that that, at least, was true.

"So let's make a deal. You teach me how to defend myself, in case that stalker does turn up, and I teach you the art of not looking like a complete fool at parties. How does that sound?"

The suggestion had its benefits: his original objective was to deal with any A21 elements who would attempt to disrupt the UN Day celebrations, and he didn't doubt for a moment the possibility of violence. If Chidori could fend for herself to some extent, it would make his work slightly easier.

"Okay."

* * *

**Kaname's Flat, 11 Oct, 0937h**

Never one to shirk, Sousuke made his first pronouncement the very next morning. "You must learn some basic defensive techniques."

It was something that Kaname had expected, and actually had some experience in. "Well, I passed my Advanced Women's Self-Defence course in the university last month..."

"That is not enough. What if your stalker turns out to be a trained fighter?"

"Now, isn't that just a little exaggerated? Besides, we all know the typical profile of these stalkers: he's probably some acne-infested scrawny punk who's never stepped outside of his house in his life, let alone taken a course in karate."

* * *

**Den of Evil, 11 Oct, Morning**

Silver sneezed. "I resent that," he muttered, looking skyward.

* * *

**Kaname's Flat, 11 Oct, 1100h**

"Now, I want you to attack me with all your might."

Kaname balked. "You're kidding. I don't exactly like you all that much, but it's not like I want to slug the living daylights out of you – well, not now, anyway."

"Do it," he commanded.

With reluctance, she mumbled, "Well, here goes," and swung her palm out hesitantly to slap Sousuke in the face.

One brief blur of motion later, Kaname found herself with one hand wrenched behind her back in a half-nelson. "Hey, you're hurting me, you know?" she said, feeling her muscles begin to strain.

"That was weak," Sousuke stated matter-of-factly. "You would never survive at that rate."

"Let go of me, will ya?" Her shoulder was beginning to get rather sore, and the joke, if there was one, was losing its humour rapidly.

He wasn't listening. "A proper attack should be much faster. Also, you should not attempt to attack a stronger opponent head-on – you should try to aim for places where the other party is unguarded..."

That did it. "Like _this_!" she roared, mule-kicking him squarely in the groin. Sousuke, for all his endurance and regimental self-control, could not withstand the starburst of pain that exploded in his crotch, and released his grip in agony.

Big mistake.

Several hard rights, a missile dropkick and multiple German suplexes later, a thoroughly battered Sousuke lay on the floor, barely conscious enough to be heard remarking, "That might also work..."

* * *

**Streets of Tokyo, 13 Oct, 1446h**

"Okay, Sousuke, let's go over this again."

Kaname and Sousuke were standing on the crowded sidewalk, commencing Sousuke's first lesson in etiquette. "Let's say you were looking for somebody on the other side of the room – or in this case, at the next traffic light. The room is crowded with people, like here. Now, I want you to make your way to the target destination – politely."

"Affirmative."

Without warning, Sousuke pulled a pistol from his pocket – another one of Kurz's gifts – and shot into the air, yelling, "Get down!" The majority complied, afraid for their lives, and those who did not ran screaming for help – which was the same end result as far as he was concerned.

Sousuke's tread through the prone pedestrians was halted prematurely by Kaname's fist in his face.

"Did I forget to say 'Excuse me'?"

* * *

**Kaname's Flat, 16 Oct, 1803h**

"This is how you use a knife."

Kaname stared, in horror, at the pig's carcass that dangled from a hook that Sousuke had mounted in her kitchen. Newspapers lined the floor, a half-hearted attempt at controlling the blood spatter that currently decorated her walls.

"To eliminate an attacker, your main aim is to stop him from moving as quickly as possible. In order to do that, the quickest way is to attack his spine, like so."

The chopper in Sousuke's hand smashed into the front of the pig's neck with a sickening crunch, and stayed embedded in the folds of flesh.

"By doing this, you can paralyse your attacker completely before he dies. Even if you do not succeed in severing his spinal cord, cutting the carotid arteries in his neck will cause him to bleed to death quickly, but remember that a dying man can still attack you if his limbs are still functioning. If you are unable to strike his neck for any reason, remember that slitting the large arteries in the armpit and groin can also kill, although not as quickly…"

He looked towards Kaname, who was already retching in the sink, and decided to stop there for the day.

* * *

**Kaname's Flat, 17 Oct, 1940h**

"This is how you use a knife."

Sousuke looked down at the plethora of eating utensils before him, thoroughly bewildered. "There is no point in using so many implements. They are unnecessary."

Kaname sighed, sympathising with him for once. It was pointless, when one gave the matter a little thought. "I know, I know, but that's how they do things in high society. Now, show me which implement you would use to eat, say…" She reached over to the mountain of pork chops that had been stacked high onto the table, and hauled one onto his plate unceremoniously. "You may proceed."

The agent simply picked the knife up, stabbed it into the hunk of meat, and bit off a chunk with the elegance of a twenty-car pileup.

"Well, at least it's the right utensil..."

* * *

**Kaname's Flat, 20 Oct, 1720h**

"So, that is a night gown..."

"No, Sousuke, it's an _evening_ gown. There's a subtle difference, in case you haven't realised." Kaname was busy checking herself in the mirror as she affixed her earrings. "By the way, how're you coping with the tuxedo?"

"I am done."

"Oh?" That surprised her – she'd half-expected him to have eschewed it for military fatigues, for all the practical use formal wear had. Curious, she turned around to have a good look at what new horrors Sousuke could have unleashed... and gaped.

Sousuke's disciplined bearing, which had seemed completely out of place when paired with a casual T-shirt and shorts, carried off the suit's lines to good effect. With his rugged face and toned figure, there was a martial air about him – which, in Kaname's opinion, made him look rather dashing, although she would have died before she admitted it. The tuxedo itself was immaculately neat, although it seemed a little over-starched, and everything, from the sleeve buttons to the tie-clip and collar pin, were in perfect place.

"Armies around the world have ceremonial uniforms," he explained. "While this is... slightly different, I believe they serve the same purpose, and so I prepared accordingly."

_I'll say_, she mused, almost drooling over the fine figure he cut – until she realised just who it was she was looking at. Embarrassed, she forced herself to stop blushing and find her tongue. "Well, I guess we're ready, then. Shall we go?"

"Roger."

* * *

Author's notes: Sorry for the delays. This chapter was so long, the original intended ending turned out to be the larger part of Chapter 5 – which, hopefully, should be done soon.

Well, according to the latest novel summaries, it turns out that Leonard is hardly the hormonal pervert that he's made out to be in this fic, so I apologise to all the Leonard fans and canon purists out there who disagree with the portrayal given here. The rest of the as-yet-unnamed organisation, however, is clearly on the wrong side of decency, which leaves you wondering just how Leonard puts up with everyone else.

Let's face it: Sousuke is the epitome of "a fish out of water", and while the theme may be done to death in nearly every fandom, I think it's relevant in his situation. After all, M's nightmare from the first chapter is hardly without basis. So tune in next chapter, when we discover just exactly how successful Kaname's training was… but I think we already know the answer to that, don't we?

As always, thanks go to Weltall Elite for proofreading. Any errors retained are largely my fault due to post-proofing changes.


	5. Premature Ending: Random Cuts

The Spy Who Kinda Liked Me

By Fool's Gold

Random Cuts

Writer's notes: Unfortunately, as you might have surmised by now, "The Spy Who Kinda Liked Me" has died a premature death due to the schemes of the nefarious villains, Real Life and Loss of Interest. So this is a taste of what might have been – short snippets of scenes that would have made it into a fully-complete version of the fic, hopefully in chronological order. (And aren't you glad they didn't?) Apologies to all, and to all a good night.

Disclaimer: I don't own FMP, the James Bond franchise, or anything else that's being parodied here. Some references may not be suitable for young children.

* * *

**Uchiha Sousuke**

Issei shrugged himself loose from Kaname's grip and stepped up to his nemesis. "So, Sagara Sousuke, there's no running away now. Fight me like a man!"

"Roger," Sousuke replied curtly, and without even attempting to free himself, knifed his fingertips in a jab at Issei's midsection. An experienced pugilist, Issei saw the blow coming a mile away and brought his fist up, confident that he could catch such a weak, unprofessional attack.

What he hadn't counted on, though, was the taser that had been built into Sousuke's communicator.

The short electrode shot out, and the air filled with the acrid odour of ozone as it connected with bare flesh, the surge of electricity sounding like the flutter of a thousand birds. As talented a fighter as Issei was, not even he could withstand the shock that shot up his arm to his brain like a flash fire, every well-developed muscle fibre of his twitching violently; naturally, he crumpled to the ground in an undignified heap, courtesy of a twenty-thousand volt discharge.

The toothpick fell from Mizuki's gaping mouth. Kyouko, vigilant as always, brought up her digital camera to get a few priceless shots of the moment. And if one looked closely, Kaname could be seen shrinking away into the crowd, hiding her face in abject embarrassment.

Even in the throes of his disorientation, Issei still managed to force out a hazy, "Sagara Sousuke… you cheat… I demand…" The rest was lost as he slumped down, mercifully, into unconsciousness.

"Wow, that's an interesting innovation. I think I've seen this somewhere before…"

"Shut up, Kyouko. Just. Shut. Up," Chidori growled.

* * *

**Gratuitous Action!**

As predicted, A21 was crashing the UN Day celebrations in full force, and they'd spared no expense in livening the party up.

Sousuke sidestepped a terrorist's burst of fire and knocked the submachine gun out of his hands in a fluid strike. It soared skywards, spinning wildly in an uncontrollable arc – only for Sousuke to leap up, using said terrorist's face as a springboard as he leapt up to seize it in mid-flight. Then, as though time had slowed down just for that one moment in an overdone cliché, he pivoted at the apex of his jump, sniping another four terrorists in the head with single shots from his newly-acquired weapon, before unleashing a fully-automatic blast at the armoured truck that the terrorists were trying to drive through the building.

Naturally, and defying all laws of probability and physics, it blew up.

And with that distraction out of the way, Sousuke immediately returned to his original mission – to protect Kaname. Unfortunately, he hadn't been doing too good a job – Kaname was being throttled from behind by one of the terrorists, and didn't look too happy about it.

In fact, she was royally pissed.

"I'm tired of – urk! – you guys!" she gasped. "You – urk! – ruin my house…"

The other terrorists could only watch helplessly as their leader received a painful elbow to the solar plexus and keeled over in pain, slackening his grip.

"…You ruin my job…"

They winced as Kaname kneed him in the face, snapping his torso backwards violently.

"…You ruin this party…"

A collective shudder ran through the crowd as she gripped the offending party by the neck, hoisted him into the air in a superhuman burst of rage, and slammed him through the buffet table. And if that wasn't enough, she began stamping on his crotch with her high-heeled shoes, spitting and snarling in unrestrained rage, "What in the world did I do to you guys? You want a piece of me, is that it? Huh?"

By this point, the collective crowd of terrorists was having second thoughts about wanting a piece of anything.

At excruciating length, Kaname finally reduced the terrorist leader to a bloody, groaning pulp on the floor, and looked up in fury. "Alright, damn it! You want a piece of me, come and get it!"

The hall was empty, save for Sousuke, who was hardly surprised.

* * *

**Gratuitous… Action?**

"Who are these women, Sagara Sousuke, and what were they doing in my bed?" Kaname yelled out as they ran down the hall, pursued by a pair of naked twin sisters with a mysteriously-unlimited supply of swords.

He definitely recognised the pair. "They are the twins that I met in Akihabara," he replied, adding unnecessarily, "and they are either commercial sex workers or assassins."

"So they're pros." Kaname's voice could have liquefied oxygen.

"Correct. And what they were doing was…"

"…Too much information. What about the scarred guy who wanted to drag you out of the house and, I quote, 'sodomise your lifeless corpse'?"

"He works with them."

Kaname blanched. "You keep some very interesting company, Sousuke.

**

* * *

**

The Best Laid Plans…

Silver was furious.

The gods mocked him. How else could that ignorant foot soldier manage to defeat three of their best assassins, if not for divine intervention and plot armour? Mithril's Sagara Sousuke would continue to be a thorn in their side, as long as he remained "Job's" protector.

He wasn't a cruel man. Against his better judgement, he'd already made attempts at negotiating – all of which had failed miserably. And with the recent loss of the twins, the concept of diplomacy as a method of minimising casualties was beginning to break down. (Gauron didn't matter: no matter how horribly you killed him, he'd be back, even if he'd just been shot to pieces by the ARX-7 and rammed off the top of an apartment block.)

But on the other hand, such martial prowess could not be wasted – anyone who could possibly best Amalgam's killers in combat was considered worthy enough for recruitment. Besides, eliminating Sousuke would only turn Job against them, thereby ruining any chance of getting into her pants – _correction_, he thought, _enlisting her talents for the sake of Operation Great Beast_.

In his mind, he began to formulate another backup plan:

_The honey pot scheme failed, not once, but twice._

_Said target was barely affected by the presence of two naked, nubile girls offering the prospects of a _ménage à trois

_Ergo, he must be attracted to men._

_If we are to recruit him to our cause, therefore, we must find another way to seduce him into joining._

_This scheme requires the use of an attractive male, a _bishonen_, in order to succeed._

_And the fairest of them all in our organisation… is me._

It was decided. Sousuke had to die.

* * *

**Initial S**

The ARX-7 sped down the treacherous slopes of Mount Akina in hot pursuit of Silver's getaway car, with the hordes of Amalgam's forces hounding closely behind. But though the posse of chasing cars stuck closely to Sousuke's heels, they were nowhere near cutting the Mithril-Six agent off. And inexplicably enough, Silver stubbornly refused to give the order to surround them.

Kalium, the leader of the execution squad, chafed at their apparent impotence. He was not a subtle man, preferring to do things crudely and without hesitation. Taking matters into his own hands, he yelled out over the intercom, "Silver! I'll cut into their path and slow them down!"

"Negative!" Silver ordered. "If you overtake him, you'll definitely fail! Stay back–"

But it was too late. The leader of the execution squad was already accelerating, pulling up ever so gradually to the front of the white car.

_You idiot_, thought Silver. _Can't you tell by the way he handles that vehicle? The way he controls his drifting down to the finest detail, the way he rounds those dangerous curves without a moment's hesitation…_

The sound of a sudden burst of gunfire, followed by death screams and a massive explosion, only confirmed Gates' defeat.

…_Oh, right. And the Vulcans mounted in the bumpers…_

**

* * *

**

Bragging Rights

"Put me through to Mithril-Six, and tell them that Amalgam wishes to make some demands." There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Oh, ignore what they say about 'technically does not exist'. From one non-existent organisation to another, it really doesn't matter."

The cold, forbidding face of M appeared on Silver's display screen. "It's been a while, Mr. Silver… or should I say, Leonard Testarossa?"

"The one and only. How's my sister doing?"

"You don't have any right to talk, Leonard!" Tessa shouted, barging into M's screen space. "We know you were the ones backing A21's attack on the UN University! Who else could have supplied them with such high-tech equipment? And you still have the cheek to show your face now?"

"Temper, temper," he shot back, giving his sister his trademark smirk. "You see… I have something you want." The camera panned to a royally cheesed-off Kaname, who was hardly happy about having the UN Day celebrations ruined by a terrorist assault and her kidnapping. "As you can see, it seems that your agent has… failed in his mission to protect the girl you were planning to recruit."

"You…" Tessa gritted her teeth, trying to hold back more than a few choice swear words. But she held back, retorting, "You're not the only one who has the trump cards. You see… we've caught your mole." The Mithril screen focused on the back of the room, where a gagged, bound and obviously-frightened Vincent Blueno was trying his best not to wet his pants as K threatened him with an instrument of cruel and unusual punishment: homemade borsch.

When the screen returned to its correct focus, it now returned to M, who had regained the reins with some difficulty. "We're fully aware of Operation Great Beast, Leonard. Amalgam will never win the arms race with tactics like these."

"Oh, really?" he replied, trying his best to sound surprised. "And what of your own Project W? Recruiting the Whispered to produce more Black Technology for your side… It all boils down to the saying: whoever dies with the most toys wins."

"Don't bandy words with me, Leonard," M threatened, his steely glare sharp enough to cut men down with a single glance. "For one who's a Whispered himself, you certainly don't show any hesitation in treating your fellow geniuses like commodities. But since you want to work that way… Why would you call, if not for to gain something out of it?"

"I'm hurt that you think of me that way, M. And actually, now that you mention it… No. No prisoner swaps, no ransom, no deals."

The artery on M's temple was throbbing like it would burst. "Then why did you contact us in the first place?"

"Oh, I just wanted to gloat," Leonard replied coolly, and turned the monitor off before M could get another word in.

* * *

…**Ouch.**

"You're one of us, Chidori Kaname," Leonard purred, leaning in for the kill. "We've been gifted with an incredible talent. We hold the keys to the technological kingdom, the sort of information that arms manufacturers around the world would kill to obtain. With this birthright, the world could be ours… So why not join us?"

Kaname only pursued that train of thought for a fleeting moment before replying, "Well… because that's one of the worst pick-up lines I've ever heard in my life?"

**

* * *

**

Innovation

"So," announced Leonard, with an unwilling Kaname at his side, "once we successfully complete Operation Great Beast, we shall revolutionise the future of warfare!" He yanked the cloth off the massive structure, unveiling it to his assembled henchmen.

The mechanical monstrosity stood at about the height of an apartment block, supported by a pair of sturdy pillars that served as its legs. The modern Colossus towered above its diminutive creator, staring down from its domed head with a pair of lifeless red sensors.

"Behold! I call it the…"

"Gundam?"

"Voltron?"

"Evangelion?"

"Megazord?"

"Metal Gear?"

It was a rare sight to see Leonard beat his head repeatedly against the nearest wall, but when it did happen, Kaname found it strangely gratifying.

**

* * *

**

The Moment of Truth

The white sports car pulled away from Amalgam Headquarters at maximum speed, its unwilling passenger sitting numbly in the back seat with an image of Sagara Sousuke, armed to the teeth, making a solitary last stand to secure their escape.

"_The ARX-7 is set on autopilot for the nearest Mithril safehouse. Should you arrive, ask for Kurz Weber or Melissa Mao, and give them this."_

_He gave her one last look of – what was it? Regret? – and, against her violent protestations, bundled her into the car. There was a short, barked command: "Initiate escape protocol."_

"…_Roger that," the car's AI replied, and almost sounded doubtful._

"…_Well done," Sousuke replied, and turned to Kaname. "I'm sorry I couldn't do any better."_

_Then he slammed the door, turning his back on them for the last time._

She handled the strange-looking wristwatch numbly, wondering why Sousuke had chosen to hand this, of all things, over to her as proof. And that strange analytical voice began to mock her through her tears, pointing out in morbid detail how the watch didn't resemble any watch she'd seen before, but had that unearthly quality that matched the car's interior…

And she saw everything.

It was as though the car, the watch… everything had just decided to unlock itself for her, down to the smallest component that made these devices tick. She knew how they worked – no, not just that: she also knew _why_ they worked, even when all the logic and current technology in the world said otherwise.

Not that it helped her make sense of anything at that point. But what she knew, deep down, was that she couldn't let Sousuke die alone.

"You can hear me, can't you?" she asked detachedly, finally directing her question at a target which she could identify. "ARX-7?"

"Affirmative."

* * *

**Someone Set Sousuke Up The Bomb**

The car sliced its way through the walls of Amalgam Headquarters for the second time that day, well and truly displeasing the grunts who had been dispatched to repair the damage that Sousuke had inflicted during the first assault. They didn't have time to protest, though, before they were cut down by the gunfire from a sentient car and an avenging angel.

"Sensors show that Uruz 007 is alive – and is being held in the basement of this stronghold. I would enter, but…" The ARX-7's engine gave a sad whirr. "It seems that this body's width is larger than that stipulated for the corridors. In other words…"

"…I know how it feels," Kaname murmured sympathetically. "Okay, cover me – I'm going in." She swung out of the car and hid behind the bullet-proof door, waiting for a suitable lull in the fighting… and when the timing was right, she ducked down one of the side passages in search of Sousuke.

Oddly enough, she had no trouble actually locating Sousuke – helped, she decided, by her ability to obtain directions from a terrified guard after threatening him with unspeakable bodily harm. It wasn't a problem entering the room either – one burst from the built-in laser that had been mounted on the communicator, and the door swung free.

What she did have a problem with, though, was the rapidly-ticking timer that was so prominently displayed on Sousuke's chest – and, of course, the explosives that were attached to it.

For the first time in as long as Kaname could remember, she saw Sousuke's eyes widen in shock. "What are you doing here?" he shouted, horror flooding his face, as though he was more concerned over Kaname's presence than the likelihood of getting blown to smithereens. "Get out of here before you get killed!"

"Don't be ungrateful, Sousuke," she snapped. "Just trust me…" And before he had a chance to protest, she had already grabbed him by the lapels of his suit, taking a close look at the bomb.

Ordinarily, she would have been horrified by the complexity of the detonation device that Leonard had constructed – but with what she now recognised as Black Technology, the intricate patterns of wires that festooned the detonation device were plain to her. "Now, hold still…"

It didn't change the fact that defusing the bomb was still delicate business – one wrong move could still trigger it off. Kaname activated the laser, carefully ignoring the look of further surprise on Sousuke's face, and got to work.

Sweat dripped from her brow as she carefully nicked each control wire in sequence, every last cell in her body bracing against the inevitable explosive mistake… but it never came. The bomb fell silent, and the final look on Sousuke's face could only have been described as one of grateful amazement.

"Phew…" she forced out through clenched teeth. Then, all the tension draining from her in one fell swoop, she fell into the arms of her old flame. "Damn, Sousuke… don't you ever scare me like that again!"

"Chidori…"

"Don't 'Chidori' me! Do you have any idea what I went through, just seeing you stand there waiting to die, huh? Do you have any idea how painful it was?"

"Chidori!" His voice was more insistent now, and if Kaname had paid attention, she would have seen him sweating buckets.

"You idiot… I'm not going to let you die like this… not when I've still got so much to tell you… Not when we've got people to go back to, to see again…"

"Chidori! While I appreciate the timely rescue, I do not feel safe about being hugged when this bomb remains stuck on my body!"

"…Oh." She blushed, and got to work on removing the securing harness.

**

* * *

**

Metal Gear Sousuke

"We're too late…"

The Arm Slave had begun moving, tearing itself loose from the restraints that held it to the wall. "How are we going to stop it?" Kaname screamed above the sound of gunfire, even as Sousuke emptied magazine after magazine of small-arms fire at it to no avail.

"You know how to use the communicator, right?"

"Well… yes, in theory," she replied doubtfully.

"Good. Now, I want you to follow these instructions carefully…"

Sousuke pulled Kaname down, whispering a series of rapid-fire instructions punctuated only by short bursts of semi-automatic fire and Kaname's horrified, "But it won't fit!"

"…It will," he insisted, and futilely raked the Arm Slave's iron shell with another spray.

"Here goes…" she muttered, and began to manipulate the communicator.

"You fools!" Leonard exulted from his high position, "you should know better! Nothing is going to take the Arm Slave down –"

The ARX-7 tore through the basement wall and soared off the gallery ledge, scoring a direct hit on the delicate head sensors of the Arm Slave with its oligomolecular cutters before landing, albeit inelegantly, on all four tyres.

"Good job," Sousuke said, helping Kaname into the white sports car.

"Remember, our deal still stands," the ARX-7 grated. "Let us get out of this in one piece."

"That is entirely in your hands now," Sousuke retorted.

"What hands?"

**

* * *

**

The Final Battle: Leonard Sephirossa

"You two… have made fools of me… for the last time." Leonard arose from the wreckage of his prototype, silhouetted against the flames of his newly-demolished base. "I'll kill you!"

Kaname found herself gaping at the disgraced villain's dress sense. It was bad enough that Leonard had eschewed his elegant coat and business suit for some weird leather get-up, but the oversized tuna knife that he gripped in soot-blackened hands took the cake. When his destabilised state of mind was added to the mix, it made for a compelling picture – the type of person who'd try to take over the world or destroy it trying.

Sousuke, unfazeable to the end, simply picked up his one remaining weapon and stared Leonard down… but the latter could only laugh at the sight.

"This is ridiculous," he yelled out incredulously, pointing at the tube of toothpaste which had appeared Sousuke's hand. "Why don't you just kill yourself and spare me the trouble?"

Sousuke didn't even waste any breath in replying. Tired and wounded, his only response was to flip his palm up in a "come on" gesture, even though he knew that the odds were significantly against him. It was their only chance to end the affair. The two mortal foes stood atop the rubble, each with his own unfamiliar weapon, waiting for the other to make the slightest mistake…

…and waited. Leonard grasped the hilt of his sword with a death grip, his ragged breathing a testament to the collapse of his world as he stood…

…and waited. Sousuke, on the other hand, could not afford to handle his weapon with the same intensity, and had to settle for a looser grip lest the toothpaste spilt out. He braced himself…

…and waited. Kaname yawned, distractedly kicking at the flock of doves that were trying to relieve themselves over her shoes – and just as the birds took flight, the pair sprang at each other like lightning.

It was over the moment she blinked. Then there was nothing left but the two combatants, pulling away from each other through the cloud of diced pigeon, their exchange over before she even realised it. It was hard to tell just what had happened, or even if anything of consequence had taken place.

But Leonard was well aware of what had happened, and, in the tradition of all doomed evildoers, was gloating prematurely. "Ha! With those slow reflexes of yours… I could have slashed you three times!"

The three wounds that Leonard had inflicted opened up with a sudden rush of pain, rivulets of blood trickling down Sousuke's now-ruined tuxedo.

"SOUSUKE!"

Kaname screamed in concern and terror, rushing towards him in concern, but he simply gritted his teeth and turned to face his opponent with grim determination in his eyes. "…It's just as well, then," was his reply, and there was no emotion in his words – only the neutral finality that came with knowledge of the outcome.

"What do you mean?"

"I could only have blown you up once," Sousuke noted, pointing to where he'd stuffed the toothpaste and toothbrush – Tessa's homebrew toiletries – into Leonard's trousers.

"…Oh Sh–"

"The Captain would be proud," Sousuke commented as Kaname helped him stagger away, the two pleasantly oblivious to the exploding arch-villain in the background.

**

* * *

**

The Obligatory Conclusion (knowing Bond movies, you can guess what happens)

It was going to be a long journey back.

Sousuke and Kaname sat exhausted in the back seat of the car, letting the ARX-7's AI take over the driving duties as they fled the carnage. It was a long way to the nearest Mithril Safehouse, which meant, naturally, that they had all the time in the world to…

"Sousuke… I've been thinking."

"Hmmm?"

"Yeah, I was just reflecting over the last couple of weeks… About my life from now on, and about our relationship…" She sighed, this time with a wistful undertone. "You know, it's funny. Before this, I was making all sorts of grand plans, but never really gave much thought about whether I'd live to see them carried out – it just never crossed my mind. Now everything's changed. I probably can't go back to my old job anymore, and I don't even know if I'll be safe working with your organisation, no thanks to this forbidden knowledge floating around in my head." A shrug fell from her shoulders. "Guess all my plans are toast."

Sousuke's rejoinder was simply, "That is the soldier's life."

"What?"

"Once on the battlefield," he explained, his mind calling back memories and lessons of times past, "you cannot be sure if you will return safely. Situations and plans can change in an instant. The only thing you can do is to survive for the next second, and then the next minute, and then… until the battle ends." A twitch passed down his shoulders, reminding him of how he'd been minutes away from a fiery death until Kaname's timely arrival.

"Yeah, you think so too?" she mused. "To live for the moment, to seize the opportunity… That sounds like a good philosophy if you're not sure where your life's going." And with that, she kept quiet, and peace descended throughout the car's interior.

For only a brief moment, anyway.

She unbuckled her seatbelt, leaning over to Sousuke's side with what could only be described as "unholy intent". "Which reminds me. There's something which I've been meaning to do for a long time…"

"Chidori… What are you planning?" The flustered look on Sousuke's face matched Kaname's devious smile, and only worsened as she leant nearer and nearer…

"Oh, just seizing the opportunity…" she whispered, and pounced.

* * *

Last words: Like I said, that's about it. If anyone could do better, they're definitely welcome to write a proper conclusion to this. Personally… I should've learnt my lesson and stuck to one-shots.


End file.
